


Business Practices

by elegantanagram (Lir)



Series: HSWC 2013 Bonus Round Fills [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Authority Challenge, Captain Karkat, F/M, Negotiations, POV Third Person, Power Dynamics, Rebels in Space, Revolution, Second in Command Rose, Troll Romance, Wordcount: 100-2.000, and Rose fucking with it, is pretty much what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-13 19:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lir/pseuds/elegantanagram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You continue to misunderstand, Captain Vantas. Your job is the last thing that I desire. All I want from this arrangement is your unguarded listening ear. That can't be too much to ask for, can it?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Business Practices

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the first bonus round of the [Homestuck Shipping World Cup](). Or, why not take the opportunity to write what is likely the most dialogue-heavy fic I've written in an age? Rose and Karkat both know how to be verbose. 
> 
> This is the first time I have actually used the prompt text in the fic. 
> 
> The prompt quote was:
> 
> _"Risk is our business. That's what this starship is about. That's why we're aboard her." - Captain James T. Kirk_

-

“If you could keep your raging human boner for power-climbing and seizing control in your fucking panties, that'd be appreciated. Better yet, strap that thing down when we're in front of the rest of the goddamn crew and I'll prostrate myself in appreciation. How does that sound? I'll get down on hands and knees and lick your boots, how does your control fetish feel about that? I'll do it if you just stop challenging my authority for more than two shitlicking consecutive minutes at a time.” 

Karkat is spitting by the time he reaches the end of his tirade, unintentionally aspirating a fine spray of saliva through his front fangs. Rose reaches two fingers to swipe off one of her cheeks, even though they're both well aware he hasn't sprayed her from three paces distance. 

“We're in front of the crew right now,” Rose points out, the embodiment of helpfulness. “I imagine you may wish to cut back on featuring yourself in such degrading imagery in front of their untried, virgin ears.”

From behind her, there comes a snicker, although Rose does not turn to confirm which member of their rag-tag crew found her backtalk sufficiently humorous as to laugh. 

“I'll do whatever I damn well please,” Karkat hisses back at her. 

The absence of any adequately colorful language, Rose notes, must indicate the true heights of his frustration regarding what is, arguably, insubordination. 

“If you recall,” she begins. “I had asked for a moment in which to speak with you privately. It was entirely your own choice to conduct our conversation in the highly publicized area colloquially known as the ship's bridge.”

She cannot hear the way he's grinding his teeth, although Rose can see the straining muscles in his jaw, can see the lines of tensing tendons starkly outlined on his neck. She privately assesses that it would be wise to solicit their ship's medic, possessed of limited skill though he might be, to look into the blood pressure of their esteemed Captain Vantas. 

“I ask again,” she says. “A word, outside?”

Karkat bites his tongue, an effort managed only through great force of will, and strides past Rose out of the bridge. With the audible echoing of his bootsteps, she'd rate his passage at more of a “stomp.”

Rose follows behind, her own steps quick and measured, continuing down the hall to the currently-vacated recreation chamber. After she passes through the portal and it whispers closed behind her, Karkat slaps the panel on the wall to register it locked. Just this once, one of their little disputes will be held in the utmost of privacy. Rose's little smile to herself is nothing save approval. 

“As I was saying before,” Rose says. “I consider embarking on our current charted course to be the utmost of rash decisions. Are you aware of exactly which port we'll need to stop over in? This undersized leapfrog of a starship can only travel so far without refueling, captain, and we'd do well to consider in exactly what corner of the galaxy we're risking stranding ourselves.” 

“I'm perfectly fucking aware of where we're going to stop,” Karkat shoots back. “Maybe if you stopped fondling your throbbing human ovaries to the thought of running this crew yourself for five seconds, it would occur to you what immensely important business we need to take care of in that port.”

“I can't actually reach my ovaries,” Rose points out. “They aren't shame globes, I assure you the process of my ovulation is entirely internal.”

“If you brought me in here to schoolfeed me an unsolicited anatomy lesson I'm walking right the fuck back out that door,” Karkat snaps at her.

Rose refrains from pointing out that, while she had requested a little discretion, Karkat was the one to bring her into the recreation chamber, and Karkat was the one who brought sensitive bits of her human anatomy into the conversation. She thinks he's doing the troll equivalent of blushing. It looks like he's trying not to throw up. 

“My plan was nothing of the sort,” Rose assures him, when his visual threshold of nausea remains unchanged for too many consecutive seconds. 

Karkat clears his throat, looking visibly relieved. 

“If the business you're speaking of,” Rose says, getting back on task, “is the particular suicide mission I dread to assume you're still clinging to the thought of executing, I strongly urge you to reconsider.”

“And why is that?” Karkat demands. 

“I simply think it's too much of a risk, at this juncture,” Rose says. “Every member of our crew has placed not only their reputation but their personal well-being on the line here, and while some are true believers, most of our rag-tag band does not seem so willing to die.”

“Risk is our business,” Karkat says flatly. “That's what this starship is about. That's why we're aboard her.”

Rose stares back at him, allowing her brows to creep further and further toward her hairline. There was no fanfare to that delivery, nothing but conviction and the unflinching acceptance of their grim reality. It is the most like a captain Rose can remember Karkat sounding. 

“Not everyone here would agree with you,” she cautions him. 

“Don't think for one second I don't know that,” he snaps, and this time his anger is at the situation, not at her. She can hear it, can hear the undertone of self-faulting, of Karkat blaming himself. 

It's so like him. She's hardly seen that side of him since posing as an ambassador on Alternia, but she knew it was still there, all along. 

“They're going to have to choke back the bitter pill of reality and chase it with a few harsh truths, because that's too fucking bad for them. They've already thrown away their security blankets so it's too late to start bawling like wigglers just because life got hard. Life already was hard. They can deal with it.”

Rose nods, solemnly, unable to do anything save agree. 

She isn't certain she wishes to argue with Karkat's choice of destination any longer. Yes, they will be passing more directly through the heart of the empire than she might have liked, and yes, there is an unutterably high probability the empress herself will be on base when they stop to refuel. She has her reservations about his plans for reconnaisance, but his point is valid – they've accepted their mission and failing to take the risks necessary to see it succeed is foolishness when they've already cast away all other hope. 

“We'll walk them through it, shall we?” she asks, swinging around Karkat to secure herself a seat at one of the recreation consoles. 

Karkat watches her, for a long minute, and she thinks he's rooting around through all her signals for the trap. The joke is on him – there isn't one. After a lengthy pause he walks after her and perches on the chair attached to the next console over. 

“I guess we have to,” he agrees, short and gruff. 

Rose worries about him, in her own way, and she refuses to let the extreme pressure Karkat places on himself jeopardize the rest of their mission. Back on Alternia, he fell ass-backwards into the throes of revolution, and the mantle of leadership draped across his shoulders is very much one that has been thrust upon him. But if everyone planetside can make big changes, it should not be so much more for them to do their part here, up in space. 

She was the one who got her cadre into his mess, while serving as “ambassador” for the humans and unspoken mistress of corporate espionage. She hardly cares for war, unskilled as she is in the politics of violence. But anything that will put a crack in the troll empress' stranglehold on certain avenues of trade? 

That's something she and her boss can get behind, and Rose is nothing if not a professional. 

“It would hardly be a feat of any great consideration,” Rose continues, with the lazy air of thinking aloud. “All it requires is a little cooperation between us. Hardly a challenge too great to be overcome.”

Karkat scowls at her, and then scoffs, laughs. “Yeah right. Are you making another bid to unseat me? At least have your mutiny in front of the crew and get it over with, if you won't get the fuck off my bulge.”

Rose laughs as well, because there isn't nearly enough vitriol in his tone for true anger. 

“Unseat you?” she echoes. “You continue to misunderstand, Captain Vantas. Your job is the last thing that I desire. All I want from this arrangement is your unguarded listening ear. That can't be too much to ask for, can it?”

The insistence earns her a disbelieving look, a flat stare that declares “those bullshit words tumbling out of your mouth are too idiotic to even necessitate my response.”

“This isn't a democracy,” Rose says. “I want a stake in the dictatorship.”

Karkat depresses his lips into a disproving line, hesitates, but Rose can see the point when he internally throws up his hands. “Fine, ugh, whatever. I'll listen to whatever bullshit you want to say to me but if you go flapping your gums too often I reserve the right not to hear a single fucking thing that comes out of your windhole.”

“That's all I ask,” Rose assures him.

She leans up on her seat, guiding herself forward just far enough to place the lightest of kisses to his lips. “A human custom,” she points out, before he can question her or, more likely, begin raging. “To seal the deal.”

He snaps his mouth closed, visibly unwilling to challenge foreign cultural practices that are beyond his understanding. Rose only smiles, but inside she's laughing. It's hardly a common business practice with humans, of course. She's simply aware that trolls have the most bizarre romantic customs, and as curious as she is about such anthropological delights, she looks forward to puzzling out in what category Karkat assigns her benign flirtation.

-

-


End file.
